Where I Came From
by Flynne
Summary: He knew he was dreaming, but he could see it so clearly...


"**Where I Came From"**

He knew he was dreaming, but he could see it so clearly…

**-------------------------**

_I feel no shame, I'm proud of where I came from_

_I was born and raised in the boondocks_

_One thing I know, no matter where I go_

_I'll keep my heart and soul in the boondocks_

_It's where I learned about living; i__t's where I learned about love_

**-------------------------**

The hardwood floor was cool beneath his bare feet. He was tiptoeing over the smooth planks so they wouldn't creak beneath him and give away that he was out of bed. The soft golden glow of a single lamp in the living room was all that lit his way.

Uncle Jesse had tucked him in hours ago, but he couldn't sleep. His chest felt hollow in a way that he had never felt before, and instead of fading, the ache just grew. Finally he couldn't stand it any more, and he had slipped out of his room and walked down the hallway, longing to be with the one person left in the world who made him feel safe.

He reached the entrance to the living room and cautiously peered around the corner. Lavinia was sitting on the couch, reading. Jesse sat beside her, holding her close as he stared absently into the fireplace.

Then Jesse broke the silence with a whisper. "I still can't believe he's gone, Liv." His wife closed her book and took his callused hand in hers, looking up at her husband with serious brown eyes. "It's so hard," Jesse went on. "Losin' Annie and the baby in that hospital fire…Kyle was just startin' to feel like himself again, and now thanks to some stupid drunk driver…I miss my brother somethin' terrible, but I just keep thinkin' about how bad it must be for Luke. He ain't even six yet and he lost his whole family in less than a year."

"I know." Liv squeezed Jesse's hand. "But Luke's got _us_, darlin'. You love him every bit as much as his daddy did, and that's what he needs. He's still got family. You and me, we'll take care of him."

From his spot in the hall, Luke sniffled quietly to himself. It had only been a matter of days, but it seemed like it had been forever since he had seen his dad. The ache in his heart grew as he remembered sitting on the steps of the little school, waiting to be picked up. The other kids had gone by him in a boisterous surge, some running home while others hopped into the family pickup idling out front. Kyle Duke never showed up. His teacher, Miss Harper, had sat with him on the porch, watching the road. Then the principal came out on the step, face gray and filled with sympathy as he rested his big hand on Luke's dark curly head. _"Lucas, I just got a phone call…"_

And then just this morning at the funeral, sitting between Uncle Jesse and Aunt Liv, crying as the truth that he'd never see his daddy again finally hit home. His dad had been sad and quiet for a long time after his mom and baby brother died, but he had always been ready to play with Luke or hold him close when he needed it. Now he was gone, and Luke was in a different house in a strange new town, feeling more lost than he had ever felt in his short life.

"Luke?"

He looked up to see his uncle's lean frame filling the doorway.

"I thought I heard somethin' over here. Are you okay?" Luke just bowed his head as he felt fresh tears sting his eyes, biting his lip to keep from crying. "Aw, there, now." Jesse bent and picked him up, holding him close. Luke's arms were tight around his uncle's neck as he buried his face in his strong shoulder. He cuddled as close as possible into Jesse's arms as they returned to the couch. Liv reached over and gently rubbed his back.

"Don't ever hide out of sight like that," Jesse told him gently. "Anytime you want, you come and get me. I mean it. You'll never be botherin' me. Don't let nothin' keep you from comin' to me, hear?"

Luke had been too young at the time to hear the tears his uncle was fighting to hold back. All he knew was that he was warm and loved and safe, and when Jesse's arms were around him, the hollowness inside faded away. He curled up against Jesse's chest and let the steady sound of his uncle's heartbeat lull him to sleep. It sounded just like his father's.

**------------------------**

_I can taste that honeysuckle and it's still so sweet_

_Where it grows wild on the banks down an old camp creek_

_And it calls to me like a warm wind blowing_

**-----------------------**_-_

A warm wind was blowing her honey-colored hair against his cheek. For the first time, he'd managed to slip his arm around her waist, and his heart gave a little thump because she hadn't pulled away. She was sitting beside him as they dangled their bare feet into the little cold creek—but with her soft, warm presence right against his side, sixteen-year-old Luke could hardly feel the chill of the water anymore.

"I'm glad you finally asked me on a date," Becky was saying, "although I gotta say it's not exactly what I thought it would be."

"Yeah, well…" Luke cleared his throat, a somewhat dazed smile on his face. "Wasn't exactly what I had planned, either, but it's definitely been one of the more interesting afternoons I've had." Then he smirked down at her and gave her a nudge. "Admit it. The car chase was fun."

Becky laughed. "Okay, okay, you're right. That _was _fun. But I don't think I've ever seen Sheriff Coltrane that mad before!"

"You ain't been chased by him before," Luke reminded her. "Rosco's startin' to get awful touchy nowadays, though. I still don't think I did anything wrong this time." He scrunched his hand through his dark curls. "And I don't know how I'm gonna get all that corn outta the grill of Uncle Jesse's truck…Farmer Lewis is gonna shoot me next time he sees me if your daddy don't beat him to it. I ain't been chased with a shotgun before."

"Oh, Daddy didn't mean it."

Luke quirked his eyebrow and gave her a skeptical glance. "You hope."

Becky giggled. "I hope." Sunlight and shadow dappled her hair as the warm rays filtered through the green leaves that rustled overhead. She reached up to adjust the strap of the little white tank top she was wearing, and Luke swallowed hard and averted his eyes. His cousin Daisy wore shirts like that, but he barely noticed. It was a whole different ball game with Becky. Daisy didn't make him dizzy just by sitting near him.

Becky leaned even closer and rested her head on his shoulder, nestling against his soft cotton t-shirt. "You know why I like you, Luke?"

"Why?"

She lifted her face to look at him without moving her head from his shoulder. "'Cause, for the wild moonshiner Daddy says you are, you're a real gentleman. A lot more than some of those other boys at school." Luke felt the beginnings of a blush start covering his face: partly because she was so pretty and so close to him, but partly because that tank top was giving him some very _un_gentlemanly-type thoughts right then that Uncle Jesse would probably thump him for.

But being a gentleman meant that _he_ had to be in charge of his thoughts, not the other way around, so he focused on her face instead and gave her a confident smile. "Uncle Jesse raised me to act like one when I'm around a lady…leastways, I try."

"Well, you do a good job of tryin'."

"Good to hear…and I'd appreciate it if you'd tell your dad that, too. If he knows I treated his little girl right, it might save me from gettin' buckshot in the behind next time he sees me walkin' down the street." Luke tugged her a little closer and ventured, "I'd like to try somethin' else, though."

Her brown eyes sparkled playfully up at him. "Like what?"

"Like kissin' you."

"I think I'd like that." She tilted her face up and closed her eyes, and Luke put both arms around her as their lips met. She slid her arms around his neck and leaned against him. Her fingers ran up the back of his neck into his hair, sending chills skittering down his spine. She was warm in his arms, and he could smell honeysuckle on the breeze as it played through the flowered fronds lining the creek bed.

When he drew back, Becky smiled up at him and gave him a wink. "You do a good job of _that_, too." Luke laughed and bent down to kiss her again.

**------------------------**

_I can feel that muddy water running through my veins_

_And I can hear that lullaby from a midnight train_

_And it sings to me and it sounds familiar…_

**------------------------**

It was late. Luke wasn't sure what time it was. He was tired, but he was too anxious to sleep. He was a little afraid, but not for himself…not really. It was going to be the hardest thing he'd ever done, leaving his family behind, but he was more worried whether or not it would be hard for them without him around. The rain hadn't come like it usually did this year. The crops were doing all right, but Luke had felt the additional pressure acutely as he labored alongside his family to make ends meet. Their moonshine business helped quite a bit, but a lot of their customers were hard up, too, and even the whiskey had been selling at a slower rate.

And at ten-thirty the next morning, he was shipping out for basic training. After that, well…the Far East was clamoring for troops, and unless something big and unexpected happened in the world, his next forwarding address would be in Vietnam.

It was a daunting thought, but Luke felt as if it were the right thing to do. He was just a country boy, not caught up in politics like the rest of the world seemed to be, but he knew he loved the land he lived in. He was a man now—eighteen—and he had decided when he was still a young boy that his father wasn't going to be the last Duke to serve in the armed forces. Of course, it wasn't likely that Luke would have had a choice about it in the end, even though he was on the young end of the draft age…but a Duke never let anyone make his decisions for him. If Luke was going, he was going to go of his own free will with his head held high and jump in with both feet.

On the other side of the room, Bo suddenly tossed off his covers and rolled out of bed, walking briskly out the door. Luke blinked, startled at his cousin's abrupt departure. He hadn't realized that Bo was even awake. When a quarter of an hour went by and he didn't return, Luke decided to go after him. He found him standing on the front porch, staring into the cloudless sky. There was no moon, and only faint starlight illuminated the fields and trees.

"Bo? What're you doin' up?"

The tow-headed boy turned suddenly, surprise and relief mingling in his voice as he said, "You're awake."

"Yeah. Couldn't sleep." Luke ambled over to stand next to Bo, staring up into the night sky. "So what's your excuse?"

"Couldn't sleep."

A long moment of silence slipped slowly by. Somewhere far off, the mournful whistle of a train wafted gently on the warm breeze, a distant and lonely sound.

"Luke, I—" The words came and stopped abruptly and Bo clamped his mouth shut again as if he had never spoken.

"What is it?" Luke prompted.

Bo gave him a quick sidelong glance before he said hesitantly, "I keep thinkin' how you're leaving tomorrow, and…Luke, what would you say if I asked you…I mean…I wanna be brothers."

Luke smiled fondly and tousled the unruly blond curls. "You don't gotta ask, Bo. Ain't we been brothers as long as we can remember?"

"Yeah, I know that," Bo said quietly. "But that ain't what I meant…I meant I wanna be blood brothers."

"Oh, well, Bo…" Luke looked at his cousin in astonishment. It was the last thing he had expected to hear, but somehow, then in the dead of night, it didn't sound like such a strange thing. "Wh—what makes you ask that?"

Bo didn't look at him. He just kept staring off into the distance. "You're leaving, and…you ain't never been gone so far away for so long. Ain't no tellin'…" He stopped just short of saying "if". "…Ain't no tellin' when you'll be back, and I just—Luke, you're my best friend." His voice trailed off into silence, and then it was Luke's turn to gaze down the gravel road at nothing as he thought. Bo was having a hard time putting his thoughts into words, but Luke understood him.

"Are you sure? It's gonna hurt."

Bo rolled his eyes and turned to face him for the first time. "You really think a little cut like that scares me?"

Luke nearly laughed at the almost childlike indignation in Bo's voice—but he didn't. Bo was hardly a child any more. With an unexpected burst of surprise, Luke realized that he hardly needed to look down to meet his cousin's eyes any more. The boy was only fourteen—almost fifteen, not quite there—but sometime over the past year he had shot up like a cattail and he wasn't done growing yet. _When I get back, I bet dollars to doughnuts he'll be taller than me,_ Luke thought in amazement.

Then he realized with a sudden jolt how very long he would be gone. Despite the four-year gap in age, the cousins were closer to each other than they were to most of their friends. He and Bo had been inseparable ever since Bo had learned to walk and follow his big cousin around. He was rapidly bridging the gap from boy to man, and Luke wasn't going to be there. He was going to miss it.

He was going to miss the pickup football games on Sundays after church. He was going to miss long, lazy afternoons on their hand-built raft, fishing in Hazzard Pond. He was going to miss midnight trips to the stills hidden deep in the woods. Like Luke, Bo had learned how to drive the tractor and the family pickup at the age of ten, and he had known how to run a still since he turned twelve, but Jesse didn't let his nephews make a shine run until they had an official drivers' license: "legal to be illegal" was the way he had once put it.

Luke wasn't going to be there for the first mad unpredictability of a moonshine run: would it be a leisurely drive over winding hilly roads, or the heart-pounding exhilaration of tearing through the back country until the cussing revenuer got lost in the chase? He was going to miss birthdays and Christmases. He was going to miss summer camping trips—lying out in the open fields, watching the stars slowly spin through the sky overhead, talking about nothing and everything until dawn broke over the Georgia countryside.

He was going to miss his little brother dearly.

"Okay," he found himself saying. "We'll do it."

He led the way back inside and lit a candle to put in the center of the kitchen table while Bo headed back to their room to get his pocketknife. Luke dipped the knife in a cupful of Jesse's home-brewed whiskey and stuck the dripping blade into the candle flame. The glow from the burning alcohol glinted brightly in two pairs of blue eyes.

Luke drew the tip of the blade in a short slit across his left palm before handing the knife to Bo. Bo swirled the knife in the moonshine and put it through the fire again before he made a mark on his own hand.

Bo rested his elbow on the table and stretched out his hand in the dark, and Luke immediately reached out to clasp it in an arm-wrestling grip, pressing their palms together. They held on to each other's hands tightly, ignoring the sharp sting, looking across the candleflame into each other's eyes.

"Now we're really brothers," Bo said firmly. His young face was serious in the flickering light, and he suddenly looked much older than he was. His grip had surprising strength for his fourteen years. Luke felt his throat start to tighten as he fully realized how much he loved his wide-eyed, rambunctious friend.

"Bo…I want you to promise me something."

"What?"

"I want you to promise me that you'll look after the farm while I'm gone. Mind Uncle Jesse, and take care of Daisy."

Bo nodded solemnly. "I promise." He recognized the importance behind Luke's words: Uncle Jesse was the anchor of their family, but even an anchor needed something to hold on to. _Be there for them while I can't be._

"Promise me something else, too."

"Anything." And Bo meant it. He only had a few hours left with his best friend, the cousin he had adored and looked up to for his entire life. If Luke had asked him for Jupiter, he would have vowed to bring it to him.

"Promise me you'll finish high school. Stay in and work hard. You don't have to get straight A's or nothin'…but promise me you'll finish."

"Okay. I will." Bo's fingers tightened almost painfully around Luke's hand, then, and he leaned forward. "Luke, you gotta promise me something, too."

"Name it."

His voice was firm and pleading as he said, "Come back."

Those two simple words nearly sent Luke over the edge, but he gritted his teeth and forced the sting behind his eyes to fade away. When he could speak without a tremor in his voice, he said, "Bo, I'll do my damndest to do just that."

"That ain't good enough," Bo said stubbornly. "You gotta promise me."

What could he say? As much as he wanted to promise Bo just that, Luke knew that it was a promise he didn't have the authority to make. "Bo...listen to me. Like you said: we're brothers now. You know what that means?" Bo shook his head. "It means I'm always with you," Luke continued. "Whether I'm here or not, I'm always with you. _That's_ my promise. Understand?"

Bo was silent for a long moment. His eyes grew bright with tears, but he blinked them back and didn't let them fall. "I understand," he said finally. Luke pressed his cousin's hand one more time and let go. The boys washed their hands at the kitchen sink without speaking. Luke pulled the first-aid kit from the cabinet and they each wrapped a light bandage around their palms.

"I guess we should go to sleep," Bo said quietly.

"Sounds like a good idea." But Luke didn't go back down the hall right away. He reached out and put his hands on Bo's shoulders, looking into his cousin's face. "Bo…you're growin' up real well, and I'm proud of you. Make sure you keep growin' up that way. You don't have to take any guff from anybody—be who you are, and don't do anything that ain't gonna make you proud of yourself."

Bo nodded solemnly, taking a deep breath to fight down the tightness in his chest. He could feel the burn of tears behind his eyes again, but the side of his mouth turned up in a puckish smile as he said, "I thought I was done makin' promises for tonight."

Luke laughed and pulled Bo forward into a hug. "Shoot fire, but I'm gonna miss you," he said hoarsely. "I love you, kid."

Bo's arms tightened around his neck. "Me too, Luke," he said in a tight whisper. "You take care of yourself, you hear?"

Luke closed his eyes. "I will, Bo. I promise."

**----------------------------**

_It's where I learned about working hard, and having a little was just enough_

_It's where I learned about Jesus, and knowing where I stand_

_You can take it or leave it—This is me_

_This is who I am_

**----------------------------**

"Luke…Luke? Hey, Sarge! Wake up!"

Luke jumped awake and shook his head, running his hand over his face in a vain attempt to wipe away the sweat and grime that covered his features. He shifted against the tree trunk he'd been leaning against, blinking sleepily at the soldier kneeling on the ground in front of him. "Thanks, Nick. How long was I out?"

"Not too long…but we've got to go. There's VC in the area and the boss says we've got to move out."

"Are we gonna meet 'em or are we gettin' out of their way?"

"I guess we'll find out once we start moving, won't we?" the red-headed man asked sardonically. He extended a hand to help Luke to his feet, an apologetic light in his eyes. "I sure hated to wake you, Sir," he said regretfully. "…You were smiling."

Luke put his helmet back on and stretched the stiffness from his muscles before shouldering his pack, breathing in the warm, heavy scent of the rain-soaked jungle. "You don't gotta apologize," he replied. A wistful smile played on his face. "I was just…dreamin' about home." He lifted his eyes to the sky. The sunrise was just starting to push the darkness from the Eastern horizon. Somewhere out there, thousands of miles away, a little farm in a backwater Georgia town was soaking up the rays of the same sun. It was half a world away, but he could feel it around him as close as his own skin.

He shifted his gun to cradle it in his right arm and paused to wipe his left hand against his fatigues. Most of the dirt was brushed away, and the look in his soft blue eyes grew distant as he gazed down at the small white scar in the middle of his palm. For a moment, he could feel a strong, warm grip on his hand, holding him steady; a drawing force that was pulling him ever closer to the place he'd left behind.

"Hey, Duke! Get the lead out, let's go!"

"Yes, Sir!" He adjusted his pack more firmly on his back and disappeared into the jungle.

**----------------------------**

_Say a little prayer for me_

**----------------------------**

– **END – **

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Just a little note: The last scene with Bo was a tricky one for me to write. I do not condone "blood-brother" arrangements and I strongly believe that nobody should participate in them because they are unhealthy and dangerous. It isn't something I would ever come up with on my own to put in a story, but there is a reason behind that particular scene… _

_That part of this story stems from a short scene from the episode "Trouble at Cooter's". Bo and Luke have been tied up by the bad guys (again) and Bo is awkwardly trying to cut the ropes off with a knife. Luke warns him to be careful, and says with a laugh, "We're already blood brothers, remember?" So I thought, well, that line's already been crossed…may as well run with it. And Bo and Luke are such close friends anyway that I didn't think it would be out of character for them to do. (And the rest, as they say, is history.) _;)

_Thank you for reading!_

- Flynne :)


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